Married for Real
by alynwa
Summary: Newlyweds Denny and Alan encounter opposition to their marriage.
1. Chapter 1

Married for Real

Preface

_The weeks after the wedding were busy ones for Denny and Alan. When they returned to the newly renamed Chang Poole and Schmidt offices the Monday after their wedding, Denny was promptly fired and Alan promptly quit. Alan had told Paul, in no uncertain terms, that he expected Denny to receive quite a substantial separation package because otherwise, the first case for the firm would be the wrongful termination case that he would bring on behalf of Denny Crane. "As for my final paycheck and vacation pay, just have it sent to me at Denny's, excuse me, our home." Paul had looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, he was so angry but, he gritted through his teeth, "Fine. You'll get your check and I'm sure the senior partners will not wish to have a public spectacle of a trial, so Denny should be pleased with his package. Is there anything else, Mr. Shore?" Paul's voice fairly dripped with sarcasm and bile. Any sadness he may have felt because Denny was being shown the door was tempered by the fact that he had never liked Alan and although the firm would surely miss the money he brought in, he would not miss putting up with Alan Shore's nonsense. "No," Alan had said, "just let in the people who are going to pick up Denny's and my things." Then, he walked out of Paul's life. _

_If Denny had taken the firing badly, he didn't allow it to show. The first thing he did when they exited the CP&S building was march Alan down to the corner of Berkeley and Boylston to the Shreve Crump & Low Jewelry Store and buy them matching platinum wedding bands. Alan had been stunned. "Blame it on the Mad Cow," Denny had said, "I should have done this before we went to DC." The salesman helping them was thrilled to witness Denny placing Alan's ring on his finger. When Denny removed the ring that had served him well for his six previous weddings and held out his hand for Alan to place his ring on him, the salesman had actually applauded and congratulated them. "I am truly a lucky man," Alan told the clerk as Denny paid the bill. "It doesn't get any better."_

_They had exited the store and Denny had reached for his phone to call his driver when Alan's phone rang. Alan had answered and listened for a moment, then said, "No, we're actually still on the block. Have one of the clerks meet me in front." He had ended the call and in response to Denny's quizzical look said, "I was wrong; it just got better. The one line memo from the Supreme Court authorizing you to take the experimental drug just got faxed to the offices." "Excellent! Let's get my prescription filled, then pack our clothes and hit the road. Someplace warm; I'll call the pilot to get the jet ready."_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter I

"Now what?"

Startled, Alan jumped awake and stared at Denny from the chaise lounge where he had been dozing. "Excuse me?" Denny was hanging over the edge of the Infinity Pool at the St. Thomas Ritz-Carlton, where they had been staying for the past three weeks. Denny eased a little closer to Alan's chair and said, "I'm bored. What are we going to do now?" Alan took his sunglasses off and rolled his eyes. "Well, I like that! Just what a loving spouse wants to hear on his honeymoon. And, here I thought we were having a wonderful time!" "Alan! Don't be that way, you know what I mean. We've been to every fun place on St. Thomas _and _St. John; we've gone deep-sea fishing, paragliding, bar crawling and woman ogling. And, I'll tell you something: I'm glad we took pictures because no one is going to believe we were here for Christmas and New Year's since you are still as white as a piece of paper." Alan adjusted his hat and replied, "Denny, people of Scottish descent have very fair skin and I have gone to great lengths not to burn. I would think you would appreciate my trying to stay attractive. As for our activities, are you saying you're ready to go home? I mean, here at least, we get to eat the fish we catch."

Denny got out of the pool and started drying himself off with an RC monogrammed beach towel. _He even looks different, _Alan thought. _That medication is truly a miracle; his memory continues to improve, his energy levels are up, his doctor is really optimistic. I was thrilled he wanted to go on an extended vacation. Now, sometimes, I have a hard time keeping up with him! _Denny pushed Alan's legs over, sat on the end of the chaise lounge and asked, "Why are you grinning like the cat that ate the canary?" "I was just thinking that you're right: I'm ready to go home, too. Let's go pack. I'll call the pilot to have the jet ready for mid-morning departure tomorrow. Boston has been deprived of us for far too long!"

Boston had so missed them, in fact, that when they stepped out of Denny's Gulfstream, she opened her arms wide and hugged them with a blast of bitter winter air. Fortunately, their driver had the car heater blowing blessedly warm air and had their coats in the back seat. While he put their luggage in the trunk, they warmed up and wondered if they were crazy to leave the Caribbean. As they left the airport bound for their suburban home, they noticed that it had snowed recently. "Alright," Denny said, "now that we're back home, what do you want to do first?" Alan smiled and said, "I defer to you, Denny. Tell me your thoughts." Inwardly, Alan was grinning like a loon thinking, _He's improved so much, I can actually trust him to make decisions for both of us. I think marriage to Denny is going to be _fun. _It has been, so far. _"Are you secure enough in our marriage now to finally give up your hotel room?" Alan smiled broadly. "Yes," he answered. "Good. I'll have someone pack up your stuff and take it to my, sorry, _our _condo. Today, we'll relax, listen to our phone messages, go through the mail, and make a few calls. The staff can unpack and take care of the laundry." Alan stretched like a cat and leaned back into the seat. "Sounds like a plan to me, Denny. When is your next doctor's appointment? Tomorrow?" he asked innocently, knowing full well it wasn't. Denny looked at Alan. "Still testing me? My next appointment is a week from tomorrow at 10:00AM with Dr. Forrester whose office is located…." Laughing, Alan raised his hands in surrender and said, "OK, enough! Point taken. Here's a better question: Are you going to carry me over the threshold?"

Two hours later found them sitting in front of a roaring fire, each with a cup of hot cocoa and a stack of mail on their laps that they were sorting into smaller stacks of congratulations, invitations, solicitations, and plain old mail. Denny emptied his lap first so; he grabbed the next stack from the end table and started opening envelopes and reading the contents. The third one he opened made his jaw drop in shock. Alan noticed immediately and asked, "What's wrong? Has something happened?" Denny wordlessly handed Alan the letter. It was double-spaced and printed on plain white paper. Alan began to read it aloud:

Dear Queers:

You disgust me! Flaunting yourselves in front of all of us! Forcing your abominable

behavior down the throats of decent people! I WON'T STAND FOR IT! Consider

yourselves warned!

"It would seem that our marriage has upset someone, Denny. Friend of yours, maybe?" Denny looked nonplussed, "I can't imagine anyone I know doing anything like this." He looked at the envelope; no return address and their address was printed on a label and affixed. Alan balled up the letter and flung it into the fire with a look of revulsion. Meanwhile, Denny looked through the rest of the stack he had picked up and came up with two more envelopes that contained equally vile, hateful messages. He noted that they had been mailed from three different locations in the greater Boston area approximately one week apart with the last one arriving the day before they came home.

Denny was getting angry. He rose from his chair and started pacing. "Cowards!" he growled, "damnable cowards! Alan, I swear, I will shoot the bastard that called us queer. I am NOT GAY!" Alan started, "Well, Denny…" "Be quiet, Alan, don't say anything." Alan decided the best course to take was to placate his spouse and not offer sarcastic comments. He reached for his phone, instead. "Maybe I should call the private investigator that I've used for cases," he offered as a suggestion. Denny waved his hand, "What good would it do? We have nothing to give him except two letters and three envelopes that have no information other than our own. They could have been printed anywhere." He seemed to calm down a bit. "Alan, you know what? This is our first night home from vacation and I refuse to let some bigoted idiot spoil our homecoming." Alan smiled, "There we go!" He handed Denny another stack of envelopes and said, "We might as well keep on going through the mail." He flipped open his phone and said, "I'm going to order a pizza. Pepperoni or sausage?" "Sausage with green peppers." Denny ripped open an envelope from the Boston Art Society and said, "This is more like it. We've been invited to their annual black-tie fundraiser this Saturday. I am on the Board, I really should go. Would you like to go, Alan? You have a tux, don't you?" "I do have a tux, Denny and, I would love to go." The doorbell rang. "I believe that's our dinner."

Alan walked out onto the bedroom balcony holding a drink in each hand. He handed one to Denny and sat down and shivered. "Denny, for crying out loud, it's got to be 15 degrees out here! Why are we outside?" "Unless it is raining or snowing, I like to sit on the balcony, if only for a moment. I love looking up at the stars. It's like I'm _drawn_ to them, somehow," said Denny as he turned around and caught Alan smiling. "Alan, I don't think I have ever seen you smile so much! What is going on with you?" Alan took a sip of his scotch and said, "I haven't been this happy or content in a very, very long time, Denny. You're much more used to my melancholy. But, I beg you now: Let's go inside before I turn into an icicle! I can't carry on a conversation while my extremities are threatening to break off my body." Denny laughed out loud, "Come on, you girl! We can talk in bed."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter II

The next morning found them both in good spirits. Denny, as usual, got up first. By the time Alan rolled out of bed, Denny had taken his medication and instructed the cook to prepare pancakes, sausage patties, scrambled eggs, grapefruit juice and coffee. After his second cup of coffee, Alan said, "Denny, I have no doubt that your appointment with Dr. Forrester next week will show your continued improvement; therefore, I'm planning to return to work after that, if you don't mind. To that end, I want to look at some rental properties today for my Legal Aid office. You want to come?" Denny eyed Alan suspiciously and responded, "No, no, I think it's great you want to get back to work but, Alan, _rental _properties? Why on earth would you want to rent? Buy something, man! Preferably something big enough that allows _you_ to rent to others." Alan smoothed the front of his bathrobe as he stood and moved to the sideboard and picked at a piece of sausage left on the serving platter. "I'm rich, Denny but, not as rich as you are. A rental is fine."

Denny glared at him and declared, "No, Alan, a rental is _not _fine. You, for better or worse, are my spouse and I will not have anyone thinking that I'm playing you cheap. My money is _your _money, Alan. We are partners. So, you tell any real estate agent you talk to that you are interested in buying, not renting. And, yes, I'll want to look with you at any property you're interested in but, otherwise, I have things I need to handle." Alan was touched; he moved closer to Denny, bent down to look into his eyes and said, "OK, I'll look for properties to buy. I plan to use the same agent I used to sell my father's house. Maybe I can find something in the Dorchester section." Denny was taken aback, "Why there? Why not Back Bay?" Alan replied, "Because I want my potential clients to think I am accessible. Dorchester will say that; Back Bay will say: Sell your first born and maybe you can afford me. And, by the way, what things do you have to handle?" Denny stood up. "None of your business. Yet. I'm going to take a shower. You take the car. I'll be hanging out at the house for most of the day." Alan sat down again and spoke, "Denny, I have an idea. Why don't you meet me for an early dinner at the steakhouse? I'll wait at the bar while the driver comes back here to get you. Does that work for you?" Denny thought about it for a moment and said, "Sure. Just don't have him here before 5:00." Alan watched Denny's back as he headed upstairs to their bedroom and said, "Consider it done."

Five-thirty found Alan sitting at the bar in Morton's having a single-malt scotch as he waited for Denny to arrive. He had reserved a table for six-thirty. He was looking over the dinner specials when someone sat in the seat to his left and dryly said, "Mr. Shore." Alan glanced up to see Charles Penard, the attorney who had argued on behalf of the Massachusetts Chapter of the Gay and Lesbian League to get an injunction to prevent Denny and him from getting married. Mr. Penard ordered a dirty Grey Goose vodka martini from the bartender, then looked at Alan and snarked, "So, I hear you and Mr. Crane were married in Canada. Your duplicity knows no borders, I see." Alan held out his left hand to show his wedding band and replied, "Yes, we were married there by a Supreme Court Justice, actually. You remember Judge Peyton; she ruled against you? Anyway, she graciously stepped aside so that Justice Scalia could perform the ceremony. He happened to be there on vacation. I use Alan Crane socially; I only use Alan Shore professionally now," Alan smiled. Penard glared, "You offend me. When I think of what you two have done; twisting the law to your own advantage, laughing in the faces of every gay human being! Of all the _deceitful_…" Just then, Denny walked up to Alan and squeezed his arm. Alan grabbed Denny's left hand and held it front of Penard, put one of his classic 'butter wouldn't melt in his mouth' expressions on his face and said, "See? We even have _matching _wedding bands."

The bartender placed Penard's drink in front of him. He slid it closer and took a sip. He leaned in so that only Alan and Denny could hear him. "What you've done is reprehensible!" he hissed, "I don't care about your 'matching wedding bands!' Just like I didn't care about your so-called declaration of love in that courtroom! We all know your marriage is a sham to circumvent tax laws. You're both _fakes!_"

Denny moved from behind Alan and inserted his considerable girth between him and Penard, forcing Penard to back up a step. He was furious and snarled back at Penard in a quiet, threatening tone, "You listen to me, you pathetic, whimpering little twit! Denny Crane is a lot of things but, a fake isn't one of them! Another thing Denny Crane is not is afraid of you! You have insulted my spouse, me and our marriage. Say one more thing and I _will _knock you on your ass!"

The bartender, who had been observing from the opposite end of the bar, must have sensed the direction the conversation was taking because he walked over and inquired, "Is there a problem, Gentlemen?" Denny smiled, "We were just discussing a case, weren't we, Charles?" Without a word, Charles paid for his drink and left. Alan looked around Denny to watch Penard stalk out of the bar. "I don't think we'll be getting a congratulatory card from him," Alan said as he rubbed Denny's back, "I rather liked you being my knight in shining Armani defending my honor." Denny grunted, (a sound that Alan knew translated into "I like what you said but, I'm not acknowledging it") and looked at his watch and said, "It's 6:25. Our table should be ready. Bartender, have his drink added to my table bill." Denny pulled some singles from his wallet and left them on the bar for the tip. "Come on, Alan."

When they were seated, Denny ordered a scotch for himself and a refill for Alan. When the server returned with their drinks, they ordered dinner and a bottle of wine. They clinked their glasses together and drank. Alan put his glass down and asked, "So, how was your day? What were you up to while I was gone? "I had Victor Travers come to the house." Alan looked surprised. "Your lawyer? Why?" Denny smiled and said, "Alan, we're married, I needed Victor to change my will, go over my investment portfolio with me and, you know, make you my beneficiary and heir. I added your name to the deeds for the houses, the condo; my banking accounts, credit cards, my country club membership, and the Gulfstream. You co-own everything with me now."

Alan was floored, positively floored. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. Denny laughed, "I don't believe it! Alan Shore Crane, speechless! I didn't know that was even possible!" Their meals arrived then, so Alan had a few moments to process what Denny had said and gather his thoughts.

"Denny, why are you doing this? This isn't necessary. I didn't ask for this!" Denny sipped his wine and ate a forkful of baked potato. "Alan, you are a man in his forties married to a man in his seventies. I won't have people thinking you're a gold digger. As my spouse, you get everything when I die since I have no children or other family. My will originally left my wealth to charity. I told you when I proposed that I wanted you to take my hand _and _my money. I'm just doing what I said I would do. Changing my will lets the world know that you inherit by my choice, not by default. You know I love you, Alan. This is just proving to one and all that I trust you, too. And, this is _Denny_ speaking; thanks to my new medication, I really _am _of sound mind."

Alan put his fork down and cast a downward glance at his lap. "Denny, I refuse to cry, even though you are trying your best to make me. I will say, however, that I don't think I have ever loved you more than I love you right now." Denny's eyebrows shot up. "Even more than when I…," he looked around then whispered, "_voted Democrat?_" Alan bobbed his head up and down, not quite trusting his voice. "Yes," he finally squeaked out, "Even more than that." Alan smiled, picked up his fork and resumed eating his dinner. "Good," Denny said, "Enough sentiment. Tell me about your day. Did you see any buildings that interested you?"

"Not really. Claire Fowler, the real estate agent, and I sat for awhile so I could tell her what I'm looking for and yes, Denny, I did say I want to buy. I'm thinking about a storefront with two or three floors above it that can either be rented as apartments or converted into additional office space. My space would need to be large enough to contain at least two offices, a reception area, a conference room, a kitchen and two bathrooms. She had one property that sounded close to what I'm looking for but, when we got there, it just wasn't right." Denny was finishing up the last of his rib-eye, "Too bad. I'm sure she'll find something you like soon enough. In the meantime, if a case comes up that you want to take, you could probably borrow some office space from somebody." Alan got the server's attention. "Denny, do you want dessert or coffee?" "No, I think I am finished." When the server came to the table, Alan asked for the check. When Denny started to protest, Alan raised his hand and said, "Denny, tonight you have been my protector, benefactor and all-around hero. There is no _way_ I'm letting you pay for this meal. You want to do something? Call our driver." Denny smiled and reached for his phone.

Alan picked up the mail from the front hall table where Maria the housekeeper routinely left it; Denny had said he had been too busy with Victor to open it. He had already headed up to their bedroom. Alan had volunteered to make them hot chocolate. He went into the kitchen, poured milk into a pot to heat up, got their cups, cocoa and mini-marshmallows from the cabinet and sat down at the counter. He was still trying to absorb everything that Denny had told him over dinner when he came across an envelope addressed to both of them that had no return address. _Oh, no, _he thought, _not again. _He opened it up and read:

You pieces of shit! You make me want to puke! I warned you once, I'm not gonna tell you again! You better take this advice and either get the hell away from decent people or face what's coming to you! I don't know how the fuck you live with yourselves but I'm gonna know how the fuck you DIED! I will not stand for this and I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE!

_And, of course, this literary masterpiece is unsigned. Some people are only brave anonymously. _Alan looked at the postmark. It was mailed from a different location than the previous three. _Great, this was mailed after we came back from St. Thomas. So, is this just a generic nut or are we being actively stalked? I never thought I would think Denny carrying firearms would actually be a _good _thing. _He went into the study where he kept his briefcase and put the letter in there. Returning to the kitchen, Alan prepared the hot chocolate, put the pot in the sink and headed for the stairs. _I'm not going to mention this one to him. What good would it do? He shouldn't have to worry about this nonsense. I'll have to make it my business to get to the mail first until this is resolved. _

He walked into the bedroom and placed Denny's cup on his nightstand. "Sorry I took so long, I was going through the mail." Denny was reading in bed but looked up when Alan appeared, "Anything interesting?" Alan came around to his side of the bed and got in; "No," he said, "just a couple of bills. I'll take care of them tomorrow. How's the chocolate? Were you out on the balcony?" Denny took a sip and sighed, "Just the way I like it, thank you. I went outside for a moment but, it's overcast so, I came back inside." "Good. Denny, what time does this function start on Saturday and where is it, exactly?" Alan asked. Denny closed his book, looked at Alan and answered, "Cocktails are at 5, dinner starts at 6 and dancing starts at approximately 8PM. The Art Museum is hosting the function this year." Alan wasn't finished, "Do you think there will be anyone there I'll know? Or, do I have to follow you around as the dutiful, supportive spouse?" Denny smiled, "Yes, there should be someone there you know and yes, I want you to be dutiful and supportive. Shirley also sits on the board, so she and Carl should make an appearance. Plus, I'm sure there will be acquaintances and other people we've met at some point in time."

Alan crossed his arms and said, "Seeing Shirley and Carl will be great; otherwise, it sounds kind of boring." Denny snorted, "Of course it does! These things usually are; that's why they start with drinks. That way, you can make it through the _rest_ of the evening. We can probably make our excuses to leave right after dinner." Alan raised his eyebrows and huffed, "'Right after dinner?' I want to dance!" Denny rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright! Girl. We'll leave at 9."

Alan finished his cocoa, fluffed his pillow and settled in under the covers. As Denny put his book on his night table and turned off the lamp, he said, "By the way, I told Maria to have both of our tuxes pressed tomorrow so we won't be rushed on Saturday." "Umhmm," Alan replied and snuggled deeper under the covers. Moments later, his breathing deepened as he fell asleep. Denny listened to Alan for a bit, then ran his fingers through Alan's hair affectionately, sent up a silent prayer of thanks for having him in his life and went to sleep himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter III

The evening started out well. Denny was decked out in an Armani tuxedo while Alan was resplendent in Ralph Lauren. They had arrived promptly at 5PM and Alan did indeed play the supportive, dutiful spouse. _Denny's right_, Alan thought, _this is quite boring. _ So, as Denny introduced him to other board members as he worked the room, he amused himself by trying to ascertain what people's thoughts were upon meeting Denny's husband. _Mrs. Smythe is mildly shocked, _he thought as he shook her hand, _the way she looked at Denny when he said 'my husband,' she didn't think he was "that way." _Upon meeting Mr. and Mrs. Laurence Fredericks, Alan thought, _Mr. Fredericks is closeted, I'm sure of it. I'll bet he's jealous. _When Denny introduced him to Mr. and Mrs. Michael Livingston, Mr. Livingston barely shook his hand and then quickly guided his wife away. _Guess I won't hold my breath waiting for a dinner invitation from them. I thought he was going to spit at my feet!_ _ Oh, my God! _The thought hit Alan like the proverbial bolt of lightning: _Could the nutcase who's been sending those letters be here tonight? We _must _travel in the same social circles! It could _be _Michael Livingston for all we know._ He stood a little straighter, looked around and instinctively, moved closer to Denny so that he was just behind his right shoulder. Denny turned his face toward Alan slightly and smiled. Alan felt a little better immediately and grinned back. Denny was now exchanging pleasantries with Judge Clark Brown, who was saying that he should have known the two of them would marry because they had worked for that "shocking and outrageous" law firm.

_I think a drink will help calm my nerves. _"Denny, I'm going to the bar, would you like something?" Denny smiled again, "No, thank you." He turned back to Judge Brown, "He always thinks about me." _Now, the judge is _definitely _jealous, _Alan thought as he moved through the crowd to the bar. He put two singles into the tip glass and requested a glass of Chivas. He decided to stay where he was and survey the room. The crowd was beautifully dressed, there was a string quartet providing background music, just enough to lift the spirit but, quiet enough to encourage conversation. _Maybe I'm wrong, I must be wrong. I don't see anyone that I would think capable of sending us hate mail. Oh, wait, I see Carl Sack. _Alan smiled inwardly at his own tasteless joke, waved hello and pointed at Denny. Carl nodded that he saw him and when Shirley joined him, Carl guided them to where Denny was standing.

"Are you as bored as I am?" a male voice asked from his right side. Alan turned to see a tall man in his late 30s, maybe early 40s looking at him. Alan replied, "If you are feeling like you would prefer root canal, then yes, I am as bored as you." Alan moved his drink to his left hand and held out his right, "Alan Crane." As they shook hands, the man said, "Devin Farrell. Pleased to meet you. Are you a board member or a patron of the arts?" "Neither. I'm here with my husband, actually. He's on the board." Devin had smiled broadly at the mention of the word "husband." "I'm here with my boyfriend. He's around somewhere; he saw one of his colleagues and excused himself to discuss a civil case with him. "Alan said, "So, Boyfriend is an attorney. My husband and I are, too. What's his name? Maybe I know him." "What a small world! His name is Charles Penard." Alan groaned, "Oh, no. Smaller than you think. No offense but, your boyfriend hates me and I don't think he's going to like it if he sees us together." Devin sipped his wine and asked, "Really? Why? If you don't mind me asking." Alan sighed, "Your boyfriend believes that Denny and I got married so I could avoid paying gift and/or estate taxes. Neither Denny nor I identify as gay. I don't believe in labels. Mr. Penard does not believe that I love Denny or that Denny loves me." Devin replied, "I see. This begs the million dollar question." Alan leaned back on the bar and declared, "Yes, it does. And, the million dollar answer is: Our sex life is no one's business but ours. I _will _say that our marriage is as real as any other good marriage and that's all anyone needs to know." Just then, Charles Penard walked up. He looked Alan up and down, then turned his back on him and said to Devin, "It's almost time for dinner to be served. Let's go to our table, shall we?" Devin looked a little embarrassed at Charles' behavior but, smiled and said, "Of course." As they started to walk away, Alan called after them, "It was a pleasure talking to you, Devin! Let's talk some more, later!" Charles whirled around and snarled, "You think you're so clever. You make me _sick!_ I won't have you mocking me. I won't stand for it. Do you hear me? _I will not stand for it!"_ Alan's shocked expression seemed to satisfy Charles, so he put his hand on Devin's back and steered him away. If he had waited a moment longer, he would have seen the shock turn to anger as realization struck. _Oh, I heard you, you self-righteous son of a bitch. And, I understand everything. _

Dinner was the usual fundraiser rubber chicken with all the fixings. Carl and Shirley shared their table as did Mrs. Sally Smythe and her escort, John Talbot and a couple who introduced themselves at Jill and Ronald French. Denny and Shirley seemed to be continuing the conversation they had been having before they had all sat to dinner so Carl turned and spoke to Alan who, lost in thought, didn't answer. He spoke softly again, "Alan?" Alan's eyes unglazed as he realized Carl was talking to him. "I am sorry, Carl. What did you say?" Carl repeated, "I said, Denny is so much like his old, pre-Mad Cow self, it is _scary. _Shirley, especially, has been enjoying him so much this evening. I assume married life is treating you well?" Alan responded, "Oh. Yes, marriage is agreeing with me. Carl, that medication has worked so much better than I had dared to hope. That's why his doctors and I felt comfortable with the idea of going to the Virgin Islands for so long." Alan looked around the room and frowned. Carl tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "Why are you looking around? Are you trying to figure out how to get away from me? Am I _that _boring?" Alan sat back and smoothed his jacket, "Carl, I'm sorry I'm not being my usual charming self but, someone has been sending Denny and me hate mail and I think I know who it is now."

Carl looked shocked and blurted out, "You've got to be kidding me!" Alan shushed him and glanced at their table mates. Mrs. Smythe and her companion were deep in conversation and Denny and Shirley were so into each other, a small incendiary device would not have distracted them. "I am not totally sure, so I don't want to name names just yet. But, if I'm right, that person is here tonight." Carl was appalled. "Here? _Now?_ What are you going to do?" Alan leaned in closer to Carl and said, "Well, I'm certainly not telling Denny; he's promised to shoot the SOB who's doing this. I can't allow that. I will confront the person this evening and let him know I'm on to him and…persuade him to stop." Carl worried, "What if he gets violent?" Alan went back to eating his dinner, "Then I _will _let Denny shoot him."

"Denny, you promised we would dance. I _like _this song, dance with me!" Denny whined, "_Alan!" _but Alan was having none of it. "Carl and Shirley are dancing," he pouted, "and when's the last time you heard Booker T and the MGs 'Green Onions'? This is the only dance I'll ask of you tonight." Denny knew he was in a losing battle, "Alright," he said as he led Alan to the dance floor, "let's show them how it's done." Denny twirled Alan around and they started to move around the floor doing a very respectable Latin Hustle. They actually attracted a group of onlookers, some delighted by what they were seeing and some disgusted, though neither one noticed. Denny and Alan had the enviable ability to, as a couple, shut out the world; so, they danced like no one else was in the room. Individually, Denny had wealth enough and age enough to no longer care what anyone thought and Alan, well, Alan _never_ cared what anyone thought.

When the song ended, they walked off the floor arm in arm as Denny was a little winded. When they got back to their table, Alan pulled out Denny's chair for him, poured him a glass of water and said, "I'm going to go talk to someone I saw earlier. Do you want something from the bar? Will you be OK without me for a few minutes?" Denny settled into his chair and harrumphed, "I'll be fine, don't worry. Is this someone I know?" Alan straightened up and smoothed his jacket, "No, Denny, I just met him this evening and I told him I would give him some information. I'll be back shortly." Denny nodded, then waved to Judge Vincent to join him. They began talking about past golf games they had played. _Good, _Alan thought and went in search of Charles Penard.

Alan walked around the room until he spotted Devin and Charles seated together on a couch huddled in conversation. He went to the bar and got a scotch, then walked over to them and sat down heavily next to Charles, who startled then angrily demanded, "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Alan leaned in, put his most deadpan look on his face and said, "I know it was you, Charles Penard. I know it was you." Devin looked confused and looked at his boyfriend. "What does he mean, Charles?"

"Yes, Charles, tell him what I mean. Tell him how you've been sending hate mail to Denny and me. Go on. Tell him!" Charles took a sip from his glass of wine and said, "I have no idea what you're talking about." Alan looked at Devin and spoke as if Charles had said nothing. "I told you that Charles here argued against Denny and me getting married in court. I wouldn't allow him to invade Denny's privacy and the court agreed. When Judge Peyton adjourned to decide the motion, Charley Boy here said 'You have no idea what you've started.' I didn't think much of it at the time but, now I know, he took it all personally. When Judge Peyton came back with the right decision, I think your boyfriend snapped. He hates that Denny and I are happy, that we love each other with no apology to anyone. I wouldn't have known it was him except he came over when you and I were speaking and almost quoted the letters word for word! You _won't stand for it,_ Charles? We _offend_ you? We _make you sick_? Just admit it, you asshole!"

Charles finished his wine and set the glass on the table. "Mr. Shore…" Alan glared at him, "Mr. _Crane!" _"Whatever. Mr. _Crane, _this is all speculation. You have no proof," Charles gloated. Alan immediately reached over and picked up Charles' wine glass. "I'm thinking that whoever mailed those horrible letters probably handled them without using gloves so, if I lift the prints from this glass and compare them to the ones on the letters, I think I'll get a match. What do you think, Charles?" The split-second look on Charles' face told Alan and Devin exactly what he thought. Devin was aghast, "Oh my _God!_ _What were you thinking? _Charles, how could you?"

Charles looked at Alan, who stared back with dead fish eyes then turned his gaze back to Devin. "Listen, Devin," he said, "the only reason they wanted to marry was to get around tax laws. Denny has Alzheimer's and he doesn't want to die alone. No one wants to be bothered with him. He's paying Alan to take care of him with the big payoff coming when he dies. Yes, I admit it, dammit, I did send those letters! I thought if they were under the impression that they might be in danger, they would divorce or have the marriage annulled. We fought for gay marriage in this state and won so that people who truly love each other can marry and be together; not so that opportunistic sleazebags like Alan Shore can defraud the government!" Devin replied calmly, "Charles, I don't know what you know or what you _think _you know but, Alan told me earlier that he and Denny love each other and if I didn't believe him then, and I did by the way, I _definitely _believe him after watching them dance earlier. They are more open, honest and loving than a lot of couples I could name. You should be ashamed of what you did. I'm ashamed of you!" Devin looked past Charles to where Alan was sitting silently listening. "Alan," he asked, "what are you going to do?"

Alan sipped his scotch, lowered his glass to his lap and appeared to think about his response. "Honestly, Devin, it depends on Charles. He's admitted to you, in front of me, that he attempted to terrorize my husband and me into annulling our marriage. Plus, I have this glass, which I am keeping, because I _will _have the fingerprints on the letters matched to the prints on it. Charles, I will say this to you one time and I suggest you look into my eyes and see the truth of what I'm about to say: Denny is my husband as I am his. We love each other and cherish our marriage. I do not want to waste the time we have left together dealing with the likes of _you._ So, this is what you will do: You will refrain from sending those letters immediately. If you don't, if another one comes from you or from _anyone_ and I have to take precious time away from my marriage to handle it, this is what _I _will do: Ruin you, plain and simple. I will see you criminally charged and disbarred. _Then, _I will sue you. And, I will win. The ball is in your court. Do we understand each other?"

Charles glared at Alan as a knot of fear formed in the pit of his stomach because he _did _believe him. He hated the idea that he was now in a trap of his own making and someone he loathed held the key. If there was a way out of it, he wasn't seeing it. "We do," he forced out from between tightly pressed lips. "You won't get any more letters from me." Alan stood up, "For your sake, I better not get any letters from anyone." Charles swallowed and nodded. Devin stood, shook Alan's hand and said, "Thank you, Alan. I know that you have done Charles a favor he so doesn't deserve. I appreciate it. Really." Alan smiled at Devin and said, "You're welcome but, I didn't do it for him or you. I've been gone from Denny too long, I must get back. Enjoy the rest of your evening." As he walked away, Alan thought, _Good luck with that._

Denny was sitting by himself when Alan got back to the table. "Where is everyone? They're not out looking for me, are they?" Denny grunted as he stood up. "Shirley and Carl left about 10 minutes ago; they said to tell you good night. Sally and her date left right after they did. You were gone for almost forty-five minutes! I've been ready to leave since nine!" Alan put his arm through Denny's and apologized, "I'm so sorry, Denny, the time got away from me. Let's get our coats and go home."

As they walked to the Coat Check, Denny slowed slightly. "Alan, isn't that the lawyer who opposed us getting married sitting on the couch over there with that guy?" "I hadn't noticed," Alan answered. Denny took one final glance, "They look like they're arguing. I wonder what the fight's about." Alan smiled as he handed Denny his coat, "I'm sure I don't know."


	5. Chapter 5

Epilogue

Alan sipped his hot chocolate and waited for Denny to come out of the bathroom. He was in a good mood; he had resolved their hate mail problem and had made a decision he was anxious to tell Denny. When Denny got under the covers and picked up his cocoa, he looked over to find Alan smiling at him. "OK, Alan, I'll bite. Why are you smiling _now?_" "It's been a good evening, Denny! We saw Shirley and Carl, we danced and we looked really great! And, I have something to tell you." "I'm all ears, Alan."

Alan fluffed his pillow and sat up higher in the bed and faced Denny. "I've decided not to go back to work for awhile longer." Denny was surprised. "I thought you were champing at the bit to go back now that I'm better." Denny sat up quickly and said, "Did Dr. Forrester call you? Is something going on with me?" Alan laughed, "No, nothing is wrong, Denny. I just thought that after your appointment, we should arrange for another trip, maybe to Spain this time. Barcelona. I just think that we should take advantage of you being in remission and have fun. I don't want to waste time doing things that can wait; I want to spend time with the renewed and improved…you. Work will be there when we're ready. What do you say?"

Denny smiled and said, "I say, let's start planning tomorrow. After Spain, we'll go to Oregon in the spring to fish. We'll make our friends jealous! Who are we, Alan?" Alan turned out his lamp and slid down until his head was on his pillow. "We are the Cranes!" he declared.

"Damn straight!" Denny responded. _Funny, that's exactly what Charles thinks, _Alan thought and smiled into his pillow. Denny punched his pillow and settled in for the night. "Good night, Alan." In response, Alan moved into a spoon position and thought, _Indeed._


End file.
